


On the Edge of Razor-Sharp Words

by Lazchan



Series: Tiger's Friendship [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 22:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9462218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Yuuri has a habit of skating when his anxieties rise and Yuri follows him one night.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OneKerfuffle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneKerfuffle/gifts), [axona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/axona/gifts).



> This is set in a nebulous sort of future, Yuri is probably around eighteen or nineteen in here and set in an AU sort of canon-divergent universe where Viktor was just Yuuri's coach, maybe something more, but they're not together in this fic. This can be however you interpret it, but it's a mild sort of Yuri/Yuuri fic. :) I also wanted to dedicate this to LuluBean and axona, for their wonderful Wildflowers fic and their ... encouragement... that I add more to this pairing. :)
> 
> Link to [Chinese Translation](http://zephyr7.lofter.com/post/2934e7_e1f675c) Thank you!

Yuri was awake, texting people home in Russia, when he heard the door near his slide open and someone walking quietly down the hallway. He glared down at his phone, trying to figure out who was awake at this hour; even the tourists were sleeping, weren't they? He ignored the fact that he was technically a tourist of sorts, since he wasn't from here, but since he had stayed here before and Yuuri's mother would hug him and sneak him extra food, he didn't count himself in with that bunch at all.

He waited until the steps were far enough away to open the door and see Yuuri's figure moving down the steps and now Yuri was even more confused. He was fully dressed and carrying his skate bag over one shoulder.  _ Don't tell me the idiot is going to practice at… _ he stared down at his phone again.  _ One in the morning? _

He wasn't waking anyone else up; he went straight out the door and Yuri watched him from the window as he started jogging down the pathway to the Ice Castle. Yuri chewed on his lower lip for a moment and thought about what he should do next. No one should be skating  _ alone _ , what if he got injured or something? He would put himself out of the running for any current competitions, he'd piss Yuri off to have to compete with people not as good… he might even  _ cry _ and then Yuri would have to kick him to make him stop and make it all worse.

The only proper choice would be to follow him, obviously. Just to make sure he wasn't doing anything stupid.  _ It's totally not because I'm worried he might hurt himself.  _ He wanted to make sure that he wasn't pulling any tricks in a routine.  _ It's also not because something has to be wrong for him to be sneaking out. _

~

He pushed open the door of the rink, making his steps as quiet as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was startle Yuuri while he skated; he wouldn't be the one to blame for a fall. At least the lights were on and it was good to know that whatever was going through Yuuri's mind, it hadn't ruled out all common sense to have him skating in the dark.

There wasn't any music playing and it was almost surreal to watch Yuuri skating with his eyes half-closed, making senseless loops around the rink. There was tension in his body, more than he should have for not even attempting something so inane as a figure. Yuri was starting to think that he had just run into a weird quirk of Yuuri's when he noticed the change and he was sure he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been watching so closely.

The movements gradually slid into something more graceful and the tension seemed to drain out of Yuuri's body with a lift of an arm, a gentle turn on the edge of his skates. There was a soft smile on his face now and while most skaters knew their music when they did their routines, Yuuri seemed to be creating music of his own with a simple step here and there.

Yuri was glad that Yuuri didn't know he was here and he settled into his seat, slouching down so that it wouldn't be as obvious that someone was here; it wasn't likely that Yuuri would look up into what was supposed to be empty stands.  _ With his glasses off, his eyesight is crappy anyway. _ He almost felt like he was intruding on something deeply private, but as it had been all those years ago when he first watched Yuuri skating, he was captivated by his movements on the ice.

Each movement flowed into the next and now it was coming together into a routine; one that Yuri hadn't ever seen Yuuri perform before but the emotion in each movement took his breath away. It was like he was barely touching the ice, bent in graceful arcs as he did one flawless movement after another. Even his spins started out slow, hands grasping at skates as he spun on one blade, before releasing and holding his arms to the sky.

Yuri leaned forward when Yuuri started to pick up speed and he knew the moment that jumps were happening—but what was he going to do? He was almost disappointed at the singles, but everything else Yuuri had done had been building up with more extravagance and this too, had to be a part of it. He didn’t care that it was getting later; that Yuuri had been pulling off this ridiculous skating routine for longer than he should have; that both of them should be  _ sleeping, damn it, _ but he was too entranced.

A single turned to a double, followed by a triple—there was more skating to cool off and then Yuuri's signature end-of-routine quad flip. Yuri almost held his breath for more, but even Yuuri had limits and he was leaning over, hands on his knees and breathing heavily.

_ So this is what he can do when no one watches him…  _ Yuri was speechless at the artistry; this is what Yuuri was truly capable of. Even sleep-deprived and without music, he pulled off something that sat in the back of his mind and made his heart hurt. There was a story here; just one that he didn't know how to interpret.

Even with the sweat running down his neck and the harsh sound of his breathing, Yuuri looked—happy and open and there was an open smile on his face as he skated to the barrier, his skating for the night either done or he realized the wisdom of a break. Yuri wondered what it was like, to skate all alone on the ice, with nothing but the sound of your skates carving paths through the ice. No audience, no coach or friends or anyone makes noises. Just whatever was inside your head that drove you to skating in the first place.

_ Yuuri is luckier than he realizes, to have such a place to go to…  _ He had always had the practice rink and Russia didn't exactly have a shortage of frozen areas to skate around, but he couldn't go there all hours of the day. This was a private place where Yuuri knew that he wouldn't be judged and he could skate whatever was in his heart. He pushed away that nagging feeling again that he was an interloper and resolved to sneak away before Yuuri even knew he was there.

"I can see you, you know," Yuri was startled out of his thoughts when Yuuri called out to him. Yuuri was wearing his glasses now and he looked more amused than angry at his unexpected and possibly unwanted audience. "How long have you been here?" There was that note of uncertainty and Yuri walked down the stands slowly, until he was at the benches situated around the rink. Yuri flushed when he saw Yuuri's hands clenched around his knees and the way his hands shook slightly. He hadn't meant to actually disturb Yuuri….

"… not since the very beginning," he muttered, staring at the floor. "But… close to it." He noticed the worn nature of the rug that slung around the rink, flattened into place by countless number of people and harder indents in certain areas from skate guards or from where careless skaters with sharp blades had stepped.  _ I wonder how old this rink is.  _ It was an inane thought, but it was easier than looking at Yuuri. "I'm sorry," he muttered. There was no one else around but Yuuri to hear him and that softened his defensive tactics. "I just—I was curious," he said. "Why you were being stupid enough to skate  _ alone _ at one in the morning." So maybe not  _ all _ of his anger was deflated.

Yuuri met his gaze when he looked up briefly and there was that smile again, slightly teasing and showed that the man had a sense of humor. "Is that why you brought your own skates?" he asked lightly nudging the bag with his hand and then outright grinning when Yuri's face burned as he was caught out so easily.

"I—I brought them—I brought them in case  _ you _ fell on the ice or something and I had to haul you off or something!" he blustered, crossing his arms over his chest. "You shouldn't be doing such moves alone, katsudon. That's why you have coaches and people around you to make sure you're not going to injure yourself." His eyes narrowed faintly. "Who am I supposed to skate against if  _ you _ take yourself out by a shitty quad Sal?"

"But Yurio, you taught me how to do a quad Sal. Are you saying you did it  _ wrong _ ?" Yuuri's expression was far too innocent and open and Yuri found himself snorting at how the other was playing him and his lips twitched upward into a smile.

"You didn't watch me for long enough and who knows what could happen? Even figure skaters can fall, Yuuri—and when we fall, we fall hard from pulling stupid flying stunts on knives."

"But they're so much  _ fun _ ," Yuuri practically sang the words and the smile on still teasing, but there was a note of truth in his words. They shared that; the thrill of launching their body from narrow blades and into the air, gaining height to rotate the proper spins, landing them cleanly and moving into each next step. It was a kind of magic; born of hard work and love of skating. 

Yuri's smile was shy as well and his voice soft, not meant to carry past Yuri, even if they were alone.

"Yeah—they are," he said slowly, running a hand through his and looking over the ice and the marks Yuuri's skates left in the ice. Every landing on his jumps had been clean and there was only the crisscrossing marks from the burn of blades on ice. Even if Yuuri had managed to land jumps more often now, his true strength had always been in his step sequences, as if he wasn't on the ice at all, but dancing across a stage.

It was what had caught Yuri's eye in the first place, when he was all of fourteen and watching Yuuri skate at the Grand Prix Finals.

His voice was hesitant with his next words. "… why did you come out here so early in the morning?" he asked. "Don't tell me you're bothered by people watching you." He raised an eyebrow at him; he knew that couldn't be the case; Yuuri, once he got over his nerves, thrived off of the crowd just as much as any competitive skater did.

"I skate when I need to clear my head." The straight-forward answer surprised him and Yuuri rested his elbows on his legs, leaning forward and looking up at Yuri. "You already know I'm a mess sometimes before routines."

Yuri nodded, all skaters got like that, especially if they were first or had watched everyone else before them. "But… I get like that all the time and well—" he shrugged and looked off towards the rink again, fingers clenching and unclenching. "Whenever I was really anxious, I'd go either to the ballet studio or to the rink and since Minako-sensei would kill me if I woke her up this early in the morning, I'm grateful to Yuuko that she gave me a key so that I can skate whenever I wanted to."

"How long have you been doing that?" he asked, brows drawing in. "Didn't you have … I don't know, friends or something that got your brain out of the rink for awhile?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Didn't skating make you  _ more _ anxious?"

"Didn't really have many friends," he shrugged. "There was Yuuko and Takeshi, but I mainly saw them at the rink; Yuuko's two years older than me and so it wasn't like we saw each other in class or anything. The other kids..." his gaze was far away for a moment. "We didn't understand each other." He finally said and there was a world behind the words that weren't said and something that Yuri wasn't going to pry into; he simply didn't have the right. "Even before I wanted to skate competitively, I spent more time here and at Minako-sensei's studio than I did at home."

"Hmph. Did all the step sequences because of dancing, but you didn't really learn jumps until later?" Yuri guessed. "With that weird Italian coach you had for awhile—" he made a face. "He was too easy on you. I can't believe I'm saying this, but Viktor is a good coach for you because he kicks your ass to make sure you know that you can do it."

Yuuri laughed at that and nodded. "Viktor had the standard that if he could do it, then why couldn't I?" he shrugged and sat up, stretching and then standing up. "I thought he was crazy for the longest time because of it, until I realized that I could do it and I was determined to show everyone else that I could, too." He smirked over at Yuri. "Including you."

"Huh? What did I have to do with any of it?" Yuri demanded. It sounded like Yuuri had come to that decision early on, even before the Grand Prix Final and while he knew that he was skating to prove a point to idiots that wanted to quit at the time, Yuuri hadn't been privy to his thoughts and hadn't known that his Free Skate had been dedicated to proving a point to Yuuri.

“You, Yuri Plisetsky, who followed me into the bathroom to only yell at me for screwing up. I just turned twenty-three, my dog had just died and I had screwed up my Free Skate do completely that it flung me all the way to the bottom.” His smile was more pained at the memory. “Then here you come in, screaming at me that I was a loser and needed to quit.” 

Yuri’s cheeks turned red at the reminder of their first, official meeting. It hadn't gone the way he had planned.  _ If katsudon is spilling his guts, I guess I can let him in on a few secrets, too. _

“I didn't go in there to yell at you,” he muttered. “I didn't plan on it, at least. I originally came after you because I wanted to learn more about you. You may have screwed up your jumps, but you always did perfect step sequences.” His face was burning as he finally admitted it after all these years. 

Yuuri's mouth dropped open and then he started to laugh. “You must have been so disappointed you caught me crying instead,” he shook his head. “But no...you telling me to quit sat in my brain for awhile, enough that I kept practicing even when I didn't place at Worlds and failed at Nationals.”

“...you're welcome?” Yuri struggled with the word, still confused, but if it helped Yuuri in the end, that was the important part. “I'm glad you didn't quit, Yuuri. Even doing that stupid routine of Viktor's that made it online showed everyone you were a talented skater.”

Now Yuuri looked even more confused. “They didn't think that about me until Viktor started coaching me.” Yuuri was confident enough to realize that did amazing skating under Viktor's ridiculous routines. 

“I've talked to the younger skaters,” Yuri eyed Yuuri. “I mean, the ones around my age and stuff and when you stepped down for that stupid break of yours, they were  _ relieved  _ that they wouldn't be competing against you. Disappointed, too--but a lot of them thought they had a better chance.” He snorted. “You and I both know you do better when there's someone to compete against.”

Yuuri's expression changed and he stared at Yuri, before smiling wider than before. “So you saw the little piggy as actual competition?” he teased. “Wow, if my younger self could hear the youngest Grand Prix gold medalist thought  _ I  _ was competition.”

“Of course I did,” Yuri muttered, cheeks still warm. “And like I said, I wasn't the only one.” Now that he was talking to Yuuri, he was wide awake and restless and looked out to the ice again. “You tired or you want to skate more?” 

Yuuri blinked at the question and then smiled. “I can skate for longer…” he rocked back on his feet. “You want to skate together?” he asked uncertainly. It wasn't a common request and something inside Yuri's chest hurt that he had been so determined to hide his own admiration for so long that he made Yuuri doubt such a simple gesture.

“Why else would I be asking?” Yuri rolled his eyes, but leaned over to pull out his skates. “Yuuko won't mind someone else but you skating?” 

“You ask  _ after  _ you lace up your skates?” Yuuri was definitely amused now. “She won't mind anyone I allow and she likes you. She has ever since she first saw you skate.” His mouth twitched upward into a smile. “Even if you did kick me into a wall. Our second meeting was just as memorable as the first.”

Yuri couldn't help but laugh. “You will probably never actually remember for yourself, but while our that meeting might have been memorable for you, I don't think I'll ever get the image of your dancing at the banquet of my head.” He looked at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye, just in time to see him turn the color of a ripe tomato. He smirked and finished knotting his laces.

“You still remember after all these years?” He looked up to see Yuuri smirking up at him, even if his cheeks were still red, it seemed that he could still tease just as well as he did before. “My, Yuri… I didn’t realize I left such a deep impression.”

“You-- you were  _ naked _ ,” he sputtered. “Or practically! I was the only one under age there, but you were … “ he closed his eyes as he remembered all too vividly the sight of the still-lithe skater, no matter what pounds he had gained, balanced on top of the perverted Swiss. He also remembered Yuuri getting too close to him, drunk as hell and demanding that he put his money where his mouth was, saying that they could have two Yuri’s on the rink. 

That was when Yuri had realized that Yuuri’s footwork hadn’t just been regulated to the rink and extended to more than one form of dance. It took him more than a year to realize that he had been impressed with more than just his dancing.

Yuuri’s face was still pink, but he shook his head. “I’m really glad I don’t remember that,” he shuddered, but his expression was almost wistful as he looked over at Yuri. “I do wish that I remembered our dance battle. There were a lot of pictures, but from what I saw, it looked like you were having fun in your own way,” he teased. “Determined to beat me.”

“Of course,” Yuri snorted. “Even though you were drunk and had no idea what the hell you were doing, you were still presenting a challenge.” He eyed him. “God knows what you can do when you’re not drunk off your ass.” 

“You’ve seen me skating,” Yuuri grinned and within moments, he was already pushing into the rink and grabbing Yuri along with him. “Minako-sensei can probably show you some of the dancing I used to do before I moved to competitive skating.” 

“She sure loves to show you off,” Yuri muttered, keeping his balance as he pulled away from Yuuri, breathing in the smell of the ice and relaxing as he automatically turned and let his blades cut into the unmarked sections of the ice.  _ Maybe Yuuri has something here; it is calming to be able to skate with no one… or even just one person… watching.  _

Yuuri didn’t look any less relaxed with someone sharing the ice with him and that stilled some of the worry in Yuri’s heart. This was obviously a long-used tactic of Yuuri’s and with everything Yuuri had told him, he was afraid that he had ruined that for him. “She’s the one that trained me for years,” he smiled,skates moving in a familiar pattern. “She did all my choreography before I went to Detroit and got Celestino as a coach.”

“Huh--it shows,” Yuri murmured, looking automatically down at how Yuuri was moving his feet. He wasn’t even  _ trying  _ and still making the intricate steps look as easy as breathing. “I trained on jumps as soon as I could and pushed for quads as soon as I turned fifteen. I wasn’t going to be held back by what everyone else did.”

“We all have the things we push when we skate,” Yuuri tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. It was surreal, that they were having this conversation in an empty ice rink at what had to be almost two or three in the morning at this point. Skating circles, skating steps and Yuri found himself trying to mimic Yuuri’s way of moving. 

It didn’t take long for Yuuri to notice and he smiled, skating closer and taking one of Yuri’s hands, even if he had to look up at him. The years had given him more height than Yuuri had and it was a testament to his dedication that he was still as graceful as he had been when he had been heads shorter and hadn’t filled out his frame yet.

“Like this--” His voice was quiet, as calm as if he were a coach himself and not still a skater. “You have to move your body this way first--” Yuri’s face was warm and he desperately wished that Yuuri didn’t see his expression as he danced with him on the ice and he knew that it wasn’t just guiding him into the same steps, but moving him into something that complimented the other’s movements. 

“Are we having another dance off?” Yuri managed to get out and Yuuri just laughed as he pulled away, but there was a flush on his face as well. “Cause I gotta tell you, it’s harder to do a dance off when you’re not actually trying to compete with me.”

“No--but it’s nice to just skate on the ice with you,” Yuuri looked content as he moved around the rink, uncaring that he’d already skated hard earlier, that Yuri was staring at him in shock before chasing him down to find out what he actually meant by those words. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, skating up close and frowning down at Yuuri. 

“It means what it means,” Yuri looked confused. “I like skating alone, but-- when I’m skating near you, I try and outdo you automatically,” he grinned. “You’ve been an interesting influence on my life and skating, Yuri.”

“Huh.” Yuri wasn’t sure what to think of that or how to reply. Yuuri had long been an influence; whether it was a drive to outdo him as well, to try and read whatever meaning was in his step sequences or to hold his breath as Yuuri pulled out another quad in a program that already had three, he was always watching him skate. 

“Thank you for following me,” Yuuri’s voice was only audible because everything else was so quiet; Yuri barely noticed that the two of them had stopped skating and instead were balancing on their skates, watching each other. Something had shifted in the air between them and Yuri didn’t know how it happened or what it meant, but his throat went tight at such simple words. 

“I-- of course,” he muttered, the tips of his ears burning from more than just the cold. “Someone’s gotta look after you when you run off and try and do something stupid.” 

Yuuri just smiled as if Yuri had said something completely different and held out his hand again. “I think I’m done being stupid tonight. I can watch you skate, though--” He tilted his head, making it a question. 

Yuri gave an exaggerated sigh and tried to ignore how warm Yuuri’s had was in his. “No, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t trip over your own feet as you make your way home. I can always skate when the rink is actually open.”

“Even with the triplets filming their favorite skaters every move?” Yuuri teased. “They’re relentless, you know and really sneaky about it.”

“Hmph. The more videos that are taken, the more people see what I can do and the more sponsors I can get, so I can skate more. It’s all a cycle, katsudon. You should try it sometime.”

“I do more than I used to,” Yuuri shrugged and even though he talked about going back, he spun him and Yuri with small circles, almost as if they were dancing on the ice. “You’d think, though--after all this time, I’d be more used to the cameras and the questions and the offers.” 

“Well, that’s part of your charm,” Yuri snorted. “Shy on camera and something totally different when you skate.” He paused and had to get another dig in so that it didn’t seem as if he were actually complimenting Yuuri. “Or when you drink, apparently.” 

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “You could let that one go,” he said lightly, pulling Yuuri close and then spinning him out again, letting go of his hand and Yuri found himself skating closer again, continuing the strange dance that Yuuri had started. 

“Nope,” Yuri’s grin was wide. “I still have pictures from that night. Why would I let something like that go?” He realized what he admitted a moment later and he knew that any excuse he made would only sound like denial, but he had to try anyway. “For blackmail!”

“Alright, for blackmail--even if more than a dozen skaters saw it and have their own video evidence of what happened.” He skated away again, that smirk on his face-- a knowing grin as if there was something that he understood from Yuri’s vehement, quick denial. 

Yuri realized that he was skating towards the barrier and glared after him. “Hey, we weren’t done yet,” he said, eyes narrowed. It was stupid, he knew-- but he hated even an impromptu dance ending before it was supposed to.  _ It would bug me all night and it would all his fault. First the stupid dance to begin with and then Yuuri not following through.  _

“You want to keep dancing?” Yuuri blinked at him in surprise, uncertain as to what Yuri meant by that. He paused, balanced perfectly on his skates, watching Yuri intently, as if he were searching for a reason that Yuri wasn’t able to spit out. 

Yuri shrugged and turned his face away. “I don’t know how to skate like that--” he said. “Skating alone--of course, but … that sort of thing wasn’t anything I wanted to do.” He made a face. “Even with Mila lifting me up and scaring the hell out of Yakov.” He smiled at the memory; Mila couldn’t pull that stunt anymore, but he was too cautious to try and pull the same stunt on her. Mila could get creative with her revenge. 

“Mmm… you’re right,” Yuuri looked a little disappointed. “Not that either one of us could lift the other--you’re not the runt you were when you were fifteen.” He exaggerated his movements of looking up at Yuri.”But even with regular ice dancing, if you didn’t do any training with it, then you could really hurt yourself skating--it’s one thing to skate around people while practicing, but ice dancing, you get really close. I mean-- same with regular dancing, but at least you’re not dancing with sharp weapons when you’re on the dance floor.” 

“What do you know about it?” Yuri’s brows drew in. “You only so single skating, too.” 

“Yuuko,” Yuuri laughed. “We skated together a lot as kid and while I didn’t do any real lifting with her, we coordinated our moves a lot. I’m sure Takeshi has video of us somewhere-- he was always filming Yuuko when we were kids. I think his kids get it from him.”

“I’d like to see that,” Yuri followed Yuuri to the barrier, to really stop for the night. He wasn’t like Yuuri, ready to do heavy skating when he had been up all night, but the little bit of skating around the rink had relaxed him and silenced some of the noise inside. 

“We’ll talk to Yuuko when it’s a more reasonable hour, then,” Yuuri was still looking fresh and bright and Yuri gave him a suspicious look as he moved off the ice a second time, but this time, not hesitating in putting on his skate guards and unlacing his skates. “Maybe you can show off for the kids tomorrow. They like you as much as they do me, you know.”

He  _ didn’t _ know that and he made a face at Yuuri’s assumptions, but mimicked his movements. As always when he finished skating, it felt odd to be closer to the ground, not balanced precariously and walking instead of gliding on a smooth surface. “Well, it might be afternoon at this point,” he muttered. “Since morning for reasonable people isn’t that far off now.”

“Oh, I’m going to go over to Minako’s studio after this. Her assistant is usually up pretty early and opens the doors--” Yuuri laughed at what had to be a look of disbelief on his face. “I’m joking, I really am,” he said. “Even I sleep, Yuri. Even if it’s really bad hours, I really enjoy my sleep.” He couldn’t exactly lean over Yuri like he had when Yuri was younger and shorter, but he leaned against him as they walked out the rink together, Yuuri only pausing long enough to lock up the doors. Outside, it was still pitch-black, dawn several hours off and the whole town was quiet. 

As they walked down the stone staircase and down the pathway together, Yuri relaxed further, pulling what was now a sleepy Yuuri against his side. After he came off the ice, it seemed that all his energy drained away, only to return again when he put on skates again. No one was around to see or hear them, but raising his voice in any sort of normal conversation seemed as loud as if he were to shout. 

“Let’s go back home, katsudon,” Yuri whispered. “We’ll skate again tomorrow.” Even if it was at one in the morning again where they skated alone or somewhere where crowds of novice skaters pressed beside them from all sides, Yuri wanted to make it happen more often. 


End file.
